The Devil Makes Three
by ElsieJane24
Summary: Rumors are floating around Beacon Hills after the death of dearly beloved Lydia Martin. Fingers are being pointed in all different directions and Nikki Stilinski has her own way of coping. Between the lies, the truth, and all the supernatural things that the human mind just cant quite comprehend, Nikki lands herself in the Eichen house. All secrets are out on- (full summary inside)
1. Prologue

**_AN: Hey guys its Elsie! This is my first story, so I apologize if it's bad (hopefully it's not). I had this idea in my head for a while now, and I'm really excited to be finally writing it. Also, I'm sorry it's such a short chapter, I know short chaptered stories kind of suck (oops) but this is just an introduction/prologue(:. That being said, I didn't have enough room to write in the summary but this is mainly Derek/OC with Stydia (otp) and Scallison. Enjoy! :D_**

_Summary: "On the first page of our story our future seemed so bright. Then this thing turned out so evil. I don't know why I'm still surprised." Rumors are floating around Beacon Hills after the death of dearly beloved Lydia Martin. Fingers are being pointed in all different directions and Nikki Stilinski has her own way of coping. Between the lies, the truth, and all the supernatural things that the human mind just can't quite possibly comprehend, Nikki lands herself in the Eichen House. All secrets are out on the table now and it's only a matter of time before things start to unravel._

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><p>I try to keep a steady beat, blinking every time I hear you tap the pen against your clipboard impatiently. I could tell you're impatient by the way you click your high heels against the marble office floor waiting for me to talk.<p>

You repeat the same words over and over, day after day. It's almost like a humming in the background. At this point you're probably convinced I'm mute, or maybe even deaf. Maybe you question my sanity, but then again by now you probably question your own sanity too.

I know what you're thinking. As days go by you slowly start to ask less and less questions. No more "How are you?" or "How was your day?" There's no more small talk. There's no sugar coating things anymore. Why bother? Sessions here are plain and simple and straight down to business. We've been doing this for so long now there's just no point. I don't want to be here, you don't want to be here. All it is is a chore and nobody likes chores.

At 5 o'clock when freedom separates us apart, you get to go home. I use the word freedom loosely. You get to go home, cook dinner for your family, walk the dog, maybe go out on a date or whatever. My point is you get to _leave. _I get shoved around from one shoe box sized room to the next. If I'm lucky I get passed down a hallway with a tiny window at the top.

You're talking about something that's just going in through one ear and out the other. I guess I'm not as good of an actress as you because your raspy voice dwindles down to a murmur when you realize I'm not even looking in your direction. I've used my excuses, but it didn't take you long to catch on. You're a smart women, I know that. You won't let me forget that either. I don't know why you went to college to spend the rest of your days in this snake pit.

"Nikki, I'm just trying to help you," you whisper the words you have rehearsed every day since day one. The tapping stopped and you began to pace back and forth. Every time you walk closer to me the floor rumbles louder and the vibrations drift off as you walk in the other direction.

If I was talking to you, I would suggest you get out while you still can and become a kindergarten teacher. You talk to me as if I'm three so I'm sure you would be good at it. You wouldn't oppose the idea either. I think after all this time you're actually starting to get the hint that I don't want help.

I don't need help.

I count the cracks in the ceiling to pass time. An hour here is painfully longer than an hour at school, and that's saying a lot.

I never realized how fortunate I was to go to school until I came here. Brunski says at this rate I'll have to repeat junior year. You already know that though. You know everything.

I've done a lot of thinking here, I can say that much. My thoughts never stop. My mind is a non stop grinding machine. I use to think it was a blessing, but nowadays, it's been nothing but a curse.

I can still hear her scream. The whole state of California could hear her scream that night. I would tell you it was a banshee thing but you would probably have me locked up in the basement where the real nut cases are kept.

I had fourteen missed calls from her that night. Fourteen. I try to convince myself that I wouldn't have been able to help even if I did answer my phone. I don't have any kind of supernatural abilities like the whole town of Beacon Hills seem to have. I drill it into my brain that no matter what, I wouldn't have been able to do anything.

The voices in my head rattle around for a little bit and then I laugh.

I could have done everything.

Cops say it was a hit n' run. They say her decaying body was left lying in the street waiting to be gnawed at by some animals in the woods.

I know the real story though. I know more than you think. I'm smart too you know.

If I was talking to you, I would tell you all about her 5.0 GPA. How she was officially unofficially considered a certified genius. So smart she was officially unofficially considered certified crazy. She would have qualified for this place. She always found the dead bodies.

Funny how things turn out.

I was told when I first got here that I was allowed two phone calls a week after the first 72 hours.

I'm still waiting.

I wonder what they're all thinking. My friends. My family. Apparently they cope better than I do. Everyone does. If only they knew what I knew though. Mr. Harrison once told me you can never know too much.

I disagree with that.

If I was talking to you, I would tell you I miss my brother the most. I don't think people realize how broken down he really is. When I was admitted into this place he gave me his pillow. He's been here too, you know. I wonder if you know him. If you do, you would know he can't sleep without the damn thing. It's just a habit he picked up when our mother died when we were six.

October _use to be _my favorite month of the year. Mom and I would always go apple picking on the weekends and make anything and everything apple related. Dad and Stiles probably ate more apples in one month than the average person would in three life times. Dad use to make jokes about bleeding out apple juice because that's basically what our diet consisted of. My favorite were the baked apples. Who would have thought that apples baked in coca cola and cinnamon would have been the perfect combination. Who would have really known?

My mind drifts off from the fading memory of my mother to the guilt hidden inside my conscience. My heart really did go out for the poor guy. He didn't deserve this. He didn't deserve any of this. He didn't sign up for his wife to pass away, leaving him with the responsibility to raise twins on his own. He didn't ask for his only daughter to go mentally insane and land herself in the Eichen House – well both kids if you want to be technical. My father truly was Superman. All he wanted to do was help people, help the community. That's why he decided to become a deputy. It was in his nature to help people. If only he knew then what he knows now.

If I was talking to you, I would tell you everything about that night. I would show you every single strand of emotion that filled my body when I saw her lying on her death bed at the hospital. All of the emotions I've kept locked in my pocket would be bouncing off your office walls. I would tell you all of the adventures I've had with my best friend. I'd tell you about our plan to flee to New York after high school and live in the same apartment together, one with a grand view of the Empire State Building.

I would tell you every single conversation Lydia and I have had and I would tell you every single secret we shared. I would tell you we were suppose to be sisters and she was suppose to marry my brother and everyone was suppose to live happily ever after. I would have told you she was suppose to see the day she graduated, number one in the class too. She was suppose to die peacefully in her sleep due to old age, not inhumanely at the mere age of seventeen. If I was talking to you, I would tell you I had the key right in the palm of my hands. The key to prevent it all from happening.

You toss your clipboard filled with empty unwritten papers down on your desk with defeat. Another day with no progress made, "Times up," you sigh, looking me up and down. You have a bored expression on your face, the same look you have after every session. You once told me all you were doing was basically babysitting me for an hour.

I stand up and smooth the wrinkles out of my cotton jumpsuit. The uniform use to be a t-shirt and sweatpants until some suicidal psycho hung herself with a string attached to the pants. Apparently this design was fool proof. I remember rolling my eyes when you told me that. I can think of a thousand ways to strangle myself in this thing, starting with the zipper.

Two guards are waiting outside to escort me to my room. For a few seconds I feel like a celebrity with body guards, but it doesn't last long before I remember where I really am. I feel your gaze violating every step I take towards the door, "I just wish," you pause, thinking of the right words to say, "I just wish you would take this a little more seriously, Nicole."

I cringe at the sound of my full name. Mom use to call me that whenever I did something wrong. If I was talking to you, I would tell you how much I hated it, but of course by now you know that I'm not talking to you.

You huff one last time, "All you're doing is wasting both yours and my time."

I shut the door behind me with a smirk plastered across my face, mentally repeating the irony in my head. If I was talking to you, I would tell you I wasn't the one wasting _our _precious time. And if you actually gave a shit, I would probably tell you the real reason why I was here.

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><p><strong><em>AN: Again sorry for this short chapter as a first impression but I promise they'll be longer from here on out. ANWAYS …. how was it? Reviews are GREATLY appreciated and all constructive criticism is welcomed (: (just no flames please I'm a beginner ok ;p)<em>**


	2. Chapter 2

"What about Owen Kelly?"

"Smelly Kelly? No way."

"Ryan Keefer?"

"Queefer Keefer? I'll pass."

The boys ran another lap. Practices were always rough leading up to the Homecoming Game. It's the biggest lacrosse game of the season and everyone in their mother comes down to see the show. Not that there's much to show anyway. We haven't won a game against Jefferson in nine years.

Lydia and I sat on the bleachers and ate lunch as we watched them one by one pull off their sweat drenched shirts and continue to run laps around the field. The cafeteria had been taken over by tacky Homecoming decorations that gave an overwhelming sense of glitter and cheap party streamers due to none other than Nina Anderson herself.

"Jason Degraff?"

"No thanks. I'm good."

Lydia smacked her gum around her mouth that was coated in ruby red lipstick and looked at me with the hazel daggers she claims are eyes, "You're never going to get a date with that attitude."

Homecoming was next Friday and it was all everyone was talking about. Dresses and dates, dresses and dates. Even Allison had fallen into the completely warped group of girls.

"What makes you think I even want to go?" I asked sipping on the rest of my soda, "Cora and I are just going to catch a movie or something."

I could have sworn I heard a "ha" escape from her lips but between her chomping like a cow and Coach Finstock being one step away from having an aneurism because the boys weren't moving fast enough, I wasn't sure.

"What about you? Who are you going with?" I shifted my body so I was now facing her instead of my brother's team, hopefully not opening old wounds of Jackson moving to London.

"Who am I not going with?" She obnoxiously popped bubble and smirked before looking at me, "I have guys lining up all the way from Oxford to go with me."

I nibbled on my rock hard cookie and instantly craved for a fresh baked chocolate chip one down by the old abandoned elementary school, "Yeah, those Oxford guys sure do look mighty fine in their red and green slacks and turtle neck vests," I mocked the ungodly Catholic school uniforms that exposed nothing but an overload of Christmas colors.

She grinned, "You'd be surprised what those bible boys are capable of in the after hours," She paused and giggled, "Some of them are even going down to Wildwood after Homecoming. It's suppose to be a real banger, you know?"

I knew. It was a tradition every year after homecoming that the upper class men of Beacon Hills all pile up into tiny cars and road trip down to Wildwood for a few days. Last year Marco Lascotti came back with his nipples pierced, Carly Letz came back with her hair shaved off, Nick Jacoby came back with multiple missing teeth, and not one person came back with a memory of why or what happened.

Basically it's just a college party town close to the border.

"Are you going?"My attention turned back to the boys.

"You know me," she smirked.

"I don't know, I'm not really feeling it," I confessed.

Horror stories of drunken hotel mates, the smell of vomit, rape, fights, and getting arrested all surfaced the hallways the week they came back. Call me lame but that isn't exactly my cup of tea.

But still everyone over looked it just to get boozed up and high. Can't you just do that in someone's basement? Apparently not.

"Come on Nikki, don't tell me you're not going?" She looked at me as if I was her annoying little sister or something.

"I don't know. My dad won't let me go until Sunday morning anyway. Not really worth it," I lied.

"He's going?" She pointed her finger referring to my brother before she crossed her arms and pursed her lips together.

I rolled my eyes, "He has a name," my lips formed a lopsided smirk, "You should go with him!"

Lydia shoved another piece of mint mojito gum into her mouth before she responded, "Who? Stiles?"

I rolled my eyes again, which I often seem to do when I'm in the presence of Lydia Martin, "No. Sweat Stain McCaine," I rubbed my hands against the thigh of my jeans, "Yes Stiles!"

She shrugged her shoulders as she focused on her newly manicured fingernails, "I don't ask, I get asked."

I was going to throw a sarcastic remark at her about how Homecoming is in less than a week and she still hasn't been asked but I decided against it. It would have been completely hypocritical considering I haven't been asked either. By now I knew I had to pick and chose my battles with her and I knew what was and what wasn't a touchy subject with her. Going from her level of popularity to her new reputation as the school wack job really took a toll on her whether she admitted it or not. She put up a good front though.

"Come on, you guys can double date with Scott and Allison," I winked and nudged her with my elbow.

"Bite me," she blushed and elbowed me back.

The banshee and I giggled like little school girls for the rest of the period until lunch was over. I stood up and stretched out my cramped body once I glanced at the time. The sun was beating down right above the school, making my eyes squint. It was almost October but the heat was still coming strong. Welcome to California right? I pull my long dark brown hair into a messy bun before gathering my things off the bleachers, "I'm gonna head out," I paused fanning my face with my hand, "But think about it and I'll think about it, mhmm?" I turned around and pranced down the steps before she had time to shout anything back.

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><p>I flipped through an old Vogue magazine I found lying underneath the rug. Chanel's pre season fall campaign consisted of western inspired clothing.<p>

"Not exactly the type of magazine I thought you'd be hiding," I cocked my head flipping through the rest of the pages, "But whatever floats your boat," I giggled.

Heavy footsteps echoed throughout the loft and the wooden floor creaked beneath my body. My back was arched up against the wall as I sat on the floor in a 90 degree angle.

Keeping my eyes focused on the pictures I continued, "Tampons are in aisle six," I mocked, disregarding the fact that I was with Cora the day she bought the magazine.

He limped around the spacey room, his mind somewhere else, "Ha, that's funny," he grunted monotonously, "You're really funny."

I traced my tongue across the roof of my mouth and shrugged my shoulders along with the sarcastic comment, "It's a gift," I hummed, "It runs in the family."

"I bet," his voice was distant.

Derek furrowed his eyebrows with his chin against his chest. I haven't seen him stand still since he walked through the door. He was either pacing back and forth or his fingers were twitching. Or both. I dropped the fashion bible in my lap and studied the werewolf's weird behavior.

"You alright?" I stretched my neck out to the side, squinting at his silhouette across the room.

He swatted his hand in the air, comparing me to an annoying bug buzzing in his ear.

I ignored the inaudible insult and stood up, "What's going on?" I began walking in his direction with concern, "Are there more Alphas? Kanimas? Don't tell me there's a pack of Kanima Alphas. Do Kanimas even have Alphas? I don't even think they have packs… Let me guess it's some type of pterodactyl –"

He cut me off "Pterodactyl? Wha -? No – Aren't you suppose to be in school or something?" Derek whipped around and faced me for the first time since we've been in the same room, glaring at me with the 'What the hell is wrong with you, are you fucking dumb' kind of face.

"Or something," I crossed my arms over my chest, "I didn't realize you were such a model student."

His facial expression twisted with annoyance, "Nicholas, go home."

I took a deep breath and sighed. I don't know why he calls me that or where he got it from. Whenever I ask he never gives me a straight answer. Nothing more than, "Because it bugs you" anyway.

"It's Nikki," I gritted through my teeth, repeating the same thing every time we 'converse'.

He let out one of those 'heh' type of laughs and grinned from ear to ear. He felt victorious whenever he used my nickname. He knew it got under my skin. It was his secret weapon.

I rolled my eyes and retreated back to my original place against the wall before Derek waltzed in here with his sappy attitude.

He followed by but stopped halfway to take a seat on top of the table near the giant window. His nerves seemed to calm down some, "What are you doing here anyway?"

I gave him a look as if why I was here wasn't obvious, "To read your issue of Vogue? What the hell does it look like I'm doing here?" I paused, "Don't spoil it for me either," I winked.

The look on his face was priceless. It wasn't a surprised priceless face but more of an, 'I'm about to rip your throat out with my teeth' priceless face, "Go home," he stressed again, a bit louder this time.

"Calm your little werewolf testies," I giggled, "I'm waiting for Cora to get back."

Derek raised an eyebrow, "You're waiting for Cora to get back," it was more of a statement than a question.

"Mhmm," I flipped the page, "That's what I just said."

He took a deep breath and scratched the top of his head, "You skipped school, to come wait for Cora to get back," he took a dramatic pause, "From school."

I leaned my head against the wall and sighed, "What's your point?"

He raised his hands above his head and twisted his face, "Nothing."

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><p>I swayed my head from left to right as I hummed and continued to flip through the pages of a new magazine I found upstairs.<p>

"When I'm standing in the fire, I will look him in the eye  
>And I will let the devil know that I was brave enough to die<br>And there's no hell that he can show me, that's deeper than my pride  
>Cause I will never be forgotten, forever I'll fight"<p>

Derek looks as if his face is about to go through the wall at any moment so I stopped, "What?"

"What are you doing?" He squints his eyes.

I clear my throat and sit up straight, "Oh, um nothing it's just a song that's stuck in my head."

"Yeah, well I'm about to put a bullet through mine."

I ignored his comment and sassed back, "You'll heal."

He began to pace back and forth again, "Look, I got places to go, things to do, and people to see.

I don't bother to look up, but I can feel his eyes burning holes through my skin, "So?"

"So….." He scurried to the door, hand on the knob, ready to open it, "…Get out."

Just before he twisted the knob, two silhouettes trampled through the door. Cora's tear stained face took me by surprise so I immediately bounced up.

A boy who looked no older than fifteen confidently strolled in and smirked at Derek. I was ready to pipe in and ask who he was, but by the way Cora was clung to his side, and the way Derek gave him the death stare, I knew I was the only clueless one. I would have assumed it was Cora's new boy toy but she wasn't known to be a cougar. She liked older _men. _

"Come on Derek! Don't tell me you don't recognize him!" Cora shouted, leaving me confused in the shadows.

When Derek didn't answer, I took the opportunity too, "Who are you?" I questioned.

"Yeah Derek," he boy cooed, "Introduce me to your friend," the same cocky smirk never left his face.

Derek bobbed his head and laughed a slight "ha" before he took off and stormed out the door, leaving me even more confused.

The mystery boy in front of me was about 5 foot 10 with a slight build. His body looked older than his face, and his shaggy brown hair almost covers his navy blue eyes.

Cora threw a shoe at the door in frustration, "God! I know it's been six years but holy shit-" She rambled on and on.

Six years? "Six years…" I spoke my thoughts, "Are you…?"

He stuck out his hand in a friendly manner, with that smirk permanently glued onto his face, "Devin Hale."


End file.
